Hoop-Hop Heartache

I'm going back to the pet I was two summers ago -- what was it, again? A chrome buzzard or a black swan? Dog days and I can't remember for some reason, probably something I ate, but either way, I just mean back when I was expecting nothing from, of, or in return, including but not limited to: commitment, the truth, your time. I wanted so much more but promises are only as sincere as the person manipulating the words and the truth is? The truth is that I don't believe in the truth: it is simply a measure of reliability. And your time? I will take what I can get, and that is nothing new, but I will try to be more interesting than television, internet lizards, porn, books, newspapers, magazines, and games, but that is a tall order and, forgive me, but I am only just the one girl, with brown hair and hazel eyes and only an average sense of conviction. So, I get it, okay? I believe that inspiration lies in wherever you seek it, like me -- I try to write with your taste in my mouth. But Its my own fault, really, and I have a wild imagination and I really must learn to teach myself not to read so much in to everything; its just that I've spent most of my life having to read so much in to hardly anything at all. But at least I don't have to work so much or take the vitamins anymore. And I feel slightly less nauseated each time I make my way through the moral labyrinth of obligation.

That, boys and girls, is the story of the optimist that never died: misfits, motherfuckers, facists and fools -- god bless us every one.